Podcasting
by Cabforcutie
Summary: Who knew podcasting could have such detrimental effects?


**Ello! Had another idea. I feel like this one might be border line desperate. But I do hope that it's somewhat enjoyable to read =)**

Helga couldn't control her mind from wandering. She was one mere student out of the three hundred who were seated in a vastly large lecture room containing one tiny lecturer with a thick accent that neither could be recognized nor understood. It was because of this reason, and the fact that Helga's day dreaming habit had become more uncontrollable as the years had gone by, that Helga decided to bring a recorder to lecture. She did this secretly however, pressing the record button and hiding the black object in her backpack, so as to not look like too much of a dweeb. Truth of the matter was, that it really helped to listen to the recordings of lecture again. If anything, she had the ability to rewind and re-listen, after which she could vouch for the fact that the professor did indeed speak English, regardless of how distorted the words sounded as they came out of his mouth.

The down side about having a back up copy of the lecture was that it took away all incentive to pay attention. This was a burden in disguise as it gave Helga time to think, and think she did.

Helga was in college now, past the point in her life at which she was legally called an adult, and almost to the age at which the state deemed her responsible enough to drink alcohol. A certain football headed boy remained in her life. In fact, he not only attended the same university, but lived on the same floor as her in the N building dorm rooms. Considering that Helga had been in love with Arnold since she was three, by now, she should have been in a passionate relationship with the guy; cooking burnt meals with him and spooning at night, among other things. It was slightly pathetic that she was in the same position that she had been in when she was a fourth grade girl, especially since he was still around, and so damn close. Physically, at least.

The years of being madly in love with him had boiled down to nothing more than a few text messages from him when he ran out of milk for his cereal. Or his cereal for his cereal. Occasionally he would also ask if she had salt. He wouldn't even stay long enough to engage in conversation. Instead, he would stand in the doorway, wait for her to pour milk in his bowl of dry cereal and leave after a few generic questions about classes and assignments.

Helga sighed and attempted to once again console herself. Sure she loved him. Sure he didn't know it. Sure, he didn't show any interest in getting to know her better, even as a friend. But look on the bright side…Helga felt the strain on her brain as she tried to come up with one. It didn't work. She needed to talk to someone.

The professor's speech started to become even more inaudible as he began to mumble on top of the accent. A signal that class was coming to an end. She reached down in her backpack, and stealthily pushed the stop button on the recorder without taking it out.

Helga shoved her way out of the lecture room and headed towards the student center. She saw her co worker sitting at the information desk in the middle of the food court area, doing nothing in particular, just as the job called for.

Helga approached the counter and let her bag hit the floor with a thump. "What are you doing here, you aren't scheduled to work today," Dulce said, pointedly.

Helga simply pouted, then sighed, letting her shoulders sag in an exaggerated fashion before she slumped over on the counter altogether.

"That wasn't excessive at all," Dulce said, without tearing her eyes away from her laptop.

"Dulce," a slight pause to build the suspense, "I want Arnold so bad."

"Then tell him! Honestly Helga. I've met the guy, he's nice, but just a complete imbecile at reading between the lines. Not that you give anything away in between the lines either."

"Hey! I'm in love with that imbecile! Speak kindly about him," Helga shot her a mock angry face.

"Alright, then YOU are the idiot. Give him something to work with Helga, he's obviously not going to figure anything out on his own, given his history of thickheadedness."

Helga stared into space as she contemplated Dulce's usual advice. "Man," she finally sighed, "He really is a thickheaded jerk. And I'm stupidly in love with him. You know that I even confessed to him once? He actually believed me when I said it was just in the heat of the moment. WHO in the world would have believed that? It's not exactly a common phenomenon for people to experience heat-full moments in which they suddenly get the uncontrollable urge to kiss anything with lips. Why is he such an idiot?"

Dulce nodded without completely paying attention, nor feeling guilty for it. She'd heard this spiel before.

"Just tell him Helga. At least let the guy know. Plus, I've heard that people like being told 'I love you,'" Dulce has gotten that last bit from the 90s sitcome, Friends, but she deemed it appropriate for this situation as well.

"Are you crazy. I can't start with that! He nearly ran away from me the last time I told him that. And then he promptly forgot it ever happened, but that's beside the point." Helga spat the words out animatedly.

For a while all that could be heard between them was the murmur in the food court and clicking of the key board as Dulce typed.

Helga sagged further onto the counter, "Oh Arnold. I wish you weren't such a boorish, oafish, numskull." She wished she knew more adjectives to make her clear point even clearer.

"Helga, just tell him. Arnold, I love you. I want to marry you. I want to make babies with you. Or, do what needs be done to make a baby, without actually making the baby" Dulce looked up briefly to waggle her eyebrows at Helga.

Helga grabbed her bag off the ground and swung it on her shoulder, "Thanks so much for the help. NOT."

"I love you too, Helga," Dulce replied in a dull tone, as Helga walked away, turning around momentarily to stick her tongue out at her.

* * *

><p>Helga had been home for about an hour and a half, and still hadn't started studying for anything. Currently she was preoccupying her very valuable time with an intense show on the cooking channel. Six chefs battled it out in a race to see who could make the best Chicken tikka masala with Paneer Koftas accompanying mint sauce. All inclusive with a side of hand made naan.<p>

She heard her phone buzz on the table and dragged herself off the couch to see who it was.

**Hey Helga, do you by any chance have an extra sponge? **

Helga blinked. Of course, he needed something again. Why else would he text her. She flipped her phone open to type a reply.

**Like the ones used for dishes?**

Her phone buzzed in response.

**Yea. The pile of dishes in our sink is so big its scaring people. I was gonna start washing them… but we don't have a sponge =/**

Helga rolled her eyes. Boys were idiots. What had they been using to wash their dishes up until this point?

She opened the cabinet under her sink to see a stack of new sponges neatly placed next to dishwater detergent and a bottle of Lysol.

**Yea, I have an extra sponge. **

She kept her response short. Boys deserved a little apathy once in a while, she thought bitterly. No need to be too friendly.

**Great! I'll be over in a bit.**

Helga stared at the text, and although she knew she shouldn't care, she began to neaten up. She straightened the table clothe on the coffee table, picked up the two glasses on it and placed them in the sink. She opened the balcony door to let in some fresh air and considered whether or not it would be too much to light one of her scented candles.

Her thinking was interrupted when the door knob turned as someone tried to unsuccessfully open the locked door. This was followed by a knock.

Helga opened the door. He was dressed in a grey hoodie that somehow accentuated his broad shoulders and nice arms, with jeans that fit just right over worn out black high top basketball shoes. It was casual. And yet he still looked so good.

"Hey," He smiled at her expectantly.

"Hey," Helga stood there, realizing that she hadn't brought the sponge to the door, like she normally would have. She stepped aside to indicate that he should walk in.

"The sponges are in the cabinet under the sink," She watched Arnold walk past her into the kitchen, and awkwardly followed.

Arnold opened the cabinet, "Awesome," He stood up with a smile, "Yea…we were trying to construct a sponge out of paper towels. But this will work way better."

"It probably will," Helga laughed, in spite of her previously bitter mood. He seemed to have that affect on her.

Arnold looked at the sponge in his hand. Knowing this went against her vow of treating him with apathy, Helga blurted, "Need anything else? Milk maybe?" The last part was spoken jokingly.

Arnold shook his head, "No, we actually have too much milk at our place now, Gerald and Stinky both brought a gallon," He looked at her, "So if YOU need any, let me know," shooting her a grin.

"Alright, thanks," Helga wasn't sure of how to stand all of the sudden. Should she lean her weight on one foot? It felt awkward. She reached her hands behind her to grab onto the chair and attempted leaning that way. She still felt like a dud. No more leaning, she told herself, and opted for standing up straight with her hands by her side.

Arnold looked around her kitchen, "Do you think I could get some water though?"

"Yea, of course," Helga scooted past him in her little kitchen to grab him a glass. She took a risk and said, "Come sit down," as she handed him the glass, hoping that he would accept her request.

Arnold eyed her tiny dining table, surrounded by chairs occupied with piles of jackets, books or bags.

"Here," Helga quickly removed the pile of books on one of the chairs and placed them on the ground, making room for Arnold to sit. He took a gulp of water as he sat down. "You should sit too," Arnold said, lightheartedly.

"Oh, right," Helga picked up her bag hastily. Her recorder fell out, hitting the ground hard before skidding under the fridge. "Oops, what was that?" Helga then heard oddly familiar noises coming from beneath the fridge.

Arnold looked at her, his eyebrows puckering up from the middle, "What is that, a radio?"

Helga looked confused herself, until she heard it.

"_What are you doing here, you aren't scheduled to work today"_

Helga's breath caught in her throat as the origin of the noises slowly dawned upon her. "No!" She whispered to herself in panic.

An annoying murmur was broken with a loud thumping sound.

"_That wasn't excessive at all"_

"Oh my god," Helga didn't bother hiding the fear in her voice. For lack of a better plan Helga got down on her knees and dug her hand under her fridge, hoping to grab a hold of the recorder. She must have accidentally hit record somehow, this had happen to her in the past, but it had never resulted in such extreme repercussions.

"Helga, are you ok," Arnold rose off his seat and looked down at her with concern.

A loud sigh was heard coming out of the recorder, followed by _"Dulce…"_

"Arnold!" Helga wriggled on the ground as she tried to feel around for the recorder, arm deep under the fridge, "Arnold, you should leave!"

Arnold was taken back by this, "Um, Ok, but are you-" he heard Helga's voice, in a sea of murmurs and static

"_I want Arnold so bad."_

"Oh my god," Helga groaned, still stretching her hand as far as she could.

His eyebrows shot up. His brain attempted to come up with a rational explanation for the girl writhing on the floor, the voices that were coming from a magical place under the fridge, and the oddly phrased confession he had just heard.

No time for processing, however.

"_Then tell him! Honestly Helga. I've met the guy, he's nice, but just a complete imbecile at reading between the lines. Not that you give anything away in between the lines either." _

"ARgh!" Helga let out a frustrated growl as she continued to unsuccessfully take control of the situation, contorting her body every which way to try and get further under the fridge.

"_Hey! I'm in love with that imbecile! Speak kindly about him," _

_Imbecile_, Arnold thought to himself, before latching on to the more important term, _Wait, what? Love?_

"Oh no no no no NO," Helga began moaning, intervening on the next statement. Arnold caught the word thickheadedness.

A slight pause ensued; Helga was in a bit of pain but could feel the recorder on the tips of her fingers. She realized she should have grabbed the broom to do this rather than her body. Shit. She obviously hadn't had time to think this through.

"_Man,"_ followed by a sigh.

"Come on!" Helga snarled

"_He really is a thickheaded jerk. And I'm stupidly-"_

"NONONONO" Helga tried to talk over the recording, but Arnold still heard it.

"_-in love with him. You know that I even confessed to him once? He actually believed me when I said it was just in the heat of the moment."_

"OH my gawwd!" Helga rumbled, still stuck under the fridge. Arnold looked at her as he listened on.

"_WHO in the world would have believed that? It's not exactly a common phenomenon for people to experience heat-full moments in which they suddenly get the uncontrollable urge to kiss anything with lips. Why is he such an idiot?" _

Arnold was pretty sure that he should have been offended by the last comment. Despite this he lips twitched, and he quickly looked down to hide the smile, his hand smoothing down the back of his head as it always did when he was slightly nervous. He had to give it to the girl. She was pretty convincing at making him sound like a thickheaded, imbecilic idiot.

"_Just tell him Helga. At least let the guy know. Plus, I've heard that people like being told 'I love you,'"_

Helga gave out a sigh, and let her body sink onto the ground with defeat. Arnold held back a snicker at this. "Helga…" Arnold couldn't think of anything else to say. He supposed he should offer to leave. Unfortunately he didn't want to. He was a bit too curious now.

The recording continued, mercilessly_. "Are you crazy. I can't start with that!"_

Helga pulled herself out to sit slumped over, looking at the fridge in awe. _"He nearly ran away from me the last time I told him that. And then he promptly forgot it ever happened, but that's beside the point."_

Helga stayed seated on the ground, staring as if in disbelief.

"_Oh Arnold. I wish you weren't such a boorish, oafish, numskull."_

_Alright, I get it, _Arnold thought to himself defensively.

"_Helga, just tell him. Arnold, I love you. I want to marry you. I want to make babies with you. Or, do what needs be done to make a baby, without actually making the baby"_

"Oh god," Helga placed her hands over her burning face, willing herself to become invisible.

Arnold placed a hand on his mouth to physically keep his face from breaking out into laughter, twisting his face with his fingers and looking away.

_Thanks so much for the help. NOT."_

"_I love you too, Helga," _

Nothing but the low hum of the student center and footsteps could be heard after this.

Helga sat frozen, her hands still on her face, unable to move.

Arnold nervously placed his hands in the pockets of his jeans and took a breath.

The silence was starting to become even more painful than the previous events.

"Well, thanks for the water." She didn't look up. "And the sponge," He continued, a bit lamely.

A silence descended once again.

"I should go get started on those dishes," He finished.

She let her hands fall to the ground, and squeaked, "Yea," and then cleared her throat, "Yea, you should do that."

Arnold offered her a smile, but she continued to look at the ground, eyes blank.

He slowly made his way out, unsure if it was the right move.

Helga heard the door close behind him.

* * *

><p>The scenes of the day before streamed through Helga's mind as she woke up, brushed her teeth, got dressed, fixed her hair, wore her shoes and packed her books. The malicious recorder was still lost somewhere under the fridge, so that Helga couldn't stomp on it even if she wanted to. And boy did she want to. Helga blushed, groaned loudly to herself and tried to wave the thoughts away. She slumped her backpack on her shoulder and proceeded to the door.<p>

_Maybe he'll….forget?_ Helga thought to herself, in a pathetic attempt to make herself feel better.

Helga took her keys out to lock her door, hearing hasty footsteps coming up behind her.

She turned around and locked eyes with Arnold, slightly out of breath, backpack on, books in hand.

He was running late to turn in an essay for his controversies in theatre class. He hadn't really anticipated a meeting with her at this particular moment.

"Hey," He initiated the conversation.

Helga blushed and made a motion with her hand as if to brush her already tied hair behind her ear. "Hey."

Arnold looked at his watch. He really needed to catch that shuttle and get his rear end in class. The professor was a hard ass that wouldn't accept late work. He stood there, feeling compelled to say something.

"Going to class?" He asked, pointlessly.

"Yea," _Good girl, just breath,_ Helga thought to herself.

"Same here," Arnold continued, oddly feeling like he was babbling, despite the exchange of such few words.

He really needed to go. He braced himself. "Alright cool."

He quickly stepped towards her and furtively gave the unsuspecting girl a peck on the cheek. Then began walking backwards towards the exit, "I'll see you later," He gave her an adorable grin before turning around and running with long strides.

Helga looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. She touched a hand to her burning cheek, bemused. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her out of her daze.

She flipped it open to see a message from him,

**Can I come over tonight? Even though I don't need milk. Or a sponge ;)**


End file.
